Dogs & Death

Nov. 8, 2007

Today started out as a pretty ordinary day. I have been going to the Craft House every day this week except today I had to stay home to wait for the APCD and scurity officer to come by to check out my house. I wrote to Maggie and told her I couldn’t find a ride to the vet with the sick and injured puppies (long story short: the puppies have been dying and getting hit by cars, we were down to three. Jeff and Maggie work for Animal Rescue and said I could take them to the vet and get them dewormed and looked at.) They offered to come pick me up and we could take them together. When we got there, the vet picked Fluffy out of the basket, the one who had gotten hit by the bread van. He started vomiting. He had hardly been moving all morning and wouldn’t eat. She looked at his fractured leg and was telling me what to do to care for him when he started to die on the table. His head was turned at an odd angle and he was shuddering as the life slowly drained from the broken little body. Maggie was crying and we were both petting him. I was surprised it hit her so hard since she deals with this so often, but there she was, tears reddening her eyes, voice cracking as she tried to say something comforting to us, to herself. “Sometimes the best gift you can give someone is to help them pass on.” And we watched as his warm, furry body became still and it was just an empty shell on the table. It’s amazing how you can tell when life ends. The body looks and feels different, empty. Then the vet lifted the small, meager puppy out of the basket, the one who had disappeared for several days. He was nearly dead too. She advised that we put him down so we layed him next to the body of his brother, petted him and walked away with only one pup in the basket. It was hard to leave him but it was the kindest thing to do and really the only solution, I don’t think he would have made it through the night.
And we drove back, talking about the future and how to make a difference in a positive way. I clutched the worm medicine and the little syringe. It was a hard blow, one I hadn’t really expected. Life in the Caribbean is much more real than the tourist brochures suggest. The kids didn’t take it very well. Imani was angry and smacked Maggie's arm, it seemed like he blamed her for some reason. That was really heartbreaking but his three-year old mind connected the loss with the new stranger. Quetta wanted to know all the details and decided to rename Patches, the remaining puppy after her favorite: Fluffy (the one with the broken leg.) It has been a draining day and hopefully something good has come of it, a little knowledge, education, health care for the animals and an end to suffering.
Right after I settled in and threw the sheet in the washing machine, Renney and Mavis came over to ask how I was and look at my place. They were happy with the way I was “comfortable” and “settled” (must have meant that I gained weight.) Renney was happy to see me in better spirits than the last time (after a thievery incident.)
Now I must leave for a meeting at the church. They are having a presentation on alkalized water. I don’t really feel like being around anyone right now but I think it will be good for me.